Mix it Up a Bit
by 3am-updates
Summary: He never remembered falling asleep, but he wakes up anyways. In which Jack Frost and Jackson Overland switch places and confusion follows.
1. Chapter 1

_**Inspired by "Switched" by This_person_cant_write on Ao3. They gave me permission to write this. Make sure to go and check out their fic!**_

He never remembered falling asleep, but he wakes up anyways.

The first thing he notices it that it is cold, freezing in fact, which sets of warning bells immediately. He's not supposed to be cold! He's Jack Freaking Frost! He can't be cold, he hasn't felt cold since he had woken up in his lake!  
He calms himself down, forcing himself to look around and stop panicking. He's in wooden room, on a small beaten down bed. There's half melted candles on the floor, flames blown out. There's a small bowl filled with water, a ripped piece of cloth placed on the rim. Jack tries to walk towards it, hopefully to get a glimpse of his reflection, but he stumbles and nearly collapses as he steps of the bed.  
Why does he feel so much heavier than usual?  
He eventually manages to pick up the bowl, splashing water on himself accidentally (Why isn't the water freezing?).  
The water takes a moment to settle, a moment in which he looks around the room. His staff (thank the gods, he's not completely powerless, at least he has his staff) is against the wall, and there is a door to the left of him, where another bed lay. He turns his attention back to the water bowl, and nearly screams.  
There, in the distorted, half-shown reflection, he sees the face of Jackson Overland staring back at him.

Jackson wakes up in a unfamiliar, cold place.  
The cold part wasn't unusual, of course. His family's house is always cold of late (it's the dead of winter, after all).  
The fact that there is snow in his room is more strange. There is piles of fluffy flakes everywhere, scattered throughout the room. The walls are decorated with frost over green paint, and the floor is iced. There's not a bed, but a large cloth-like thing stretched between two of the ceiling beams. He doesn't particularly know what that is.  
A wind blows through the open window. Why is the window open? Shouldn't it be closed, to keep out the cold?  
Which makes him realize something. He's not cold, despite being ankle deep in snow and having no cloak on. Where did his cloak go? All his clothes are gone, though his pants look recognizable. He's wearing a weird, bright blue garment. Where did that come from, and why was he wearing it? The cloth was soft, and most likely expensive. Where did his belongings go?  
He pulls himself out of the snow, scattering it all over the ice floor.  
He slowly stands up and looks around. There's two doors, probably leading outside of the room, though why you would need two he couldn't understand. He goes through the closest one.  
It's not a door outside. Instead, it's to a small room that he doesn't recognize, one with a weird seat and colorful curtain made that shines in a light coming from the ceiling. How did one take the sun's light and put it in a room?  
He turns, taking in the room, and sees a reflective surface. More clear and colored than water, sharper and cleaner and easier to see.  
Jackson screams as a white haired boy stares at him from the glass.


	2. Chapter 2

Jackson's scream apparently alerts overs to his presence.

"Jack? Are you okay?" The language sounds foreign to his ears, definitely English but not how he's used to it. It's like when traders came to their village with heavy accents. The words sound normal, but he can't recognize some and it's almost slurred together. It's not French, either, because he knows enough of that to recognize it.

He stays silent, covering his mouth and staring at his reflection in horror. His eyes are blue- he's only met one person with blue eyes, and that was Emily from England. Some of the villagers whispered how she was cursed, that no one normal had blue eyes.

Would they say that about him, if they saw him? He had white hair, as if he was forty and not fourteen. Surely, he would… be accused of witchcraft or something equally as horrible.

He expects his heart to be racing and his breathing to be heavy with how scared he is, but he can feel neither as he silently backs into the walls. He hears what must be the other door creaking open and heavy footsteps. "Jack?"

He's trembling as he peaks around the corner of the door. He nearly can't keep himself from screaming again, but a hand over his mouth saves him. In front of him, there's demons of some sort, inhuman and hard for him to comprehend. They shimmer as he looks, fading in and out as if they're cloaked by invisibility.

He takes a step backwards, tripping over his own feet. Loud crashes sound from where he falls, and he can't help the startled yelp as he slips and hits his head.

He catches a glimpse of the four figures turning towards him, noises of surprise coming from them as they see him try to catch himself.

"Jack! Are you okay?" One of them, a cursed lady flying, goes towards him, carefully maneuvering herself to fit through the door.

He scrambles backwards, trying to pull himself up while getting away from her. He can't keep the fear from his voice as he shouts. "Witch! Stay back!"

The lady stops and more of the figures move into the room, effectively cutting of his escape route. "Jack?"

He feels tears fall down his face but they never fall off, instead freezing and sticking to his skin. This alone was cause for concern but he was more worried about the man made of sand, the giant, the creature on two legs, and the bird lady. He makes a sign the preacher taught them once, again trying to move back. "Demons!"

"Jack-"

More tears fill his eyes, making his vision go blurry. "What are thou? What does thou want?"

The small man's sand moves over his head, making pictures of a small clock going the wrong way. Jackson gasps as the sand moves on it's own, defying gravity to form pictures.

The creature on two legs hops forward, and he gasps in shock as it speaks. "Jack, mate, do you know who we are?"

He shakes as he screams, curling in on himself. "Demons! Thou won't take me!"

"Friends!" the giant says, making him jump from the loud sound. "Jack is not in right mind! He is scared of us, back up."

He barely looks as they back out of the room slowly. "Jack, tell us what's happening."

He springs to his feet once he has enough room, making a mad dash for the other door and succeeding in getting out. He hears shouts from behind but he keeps running. He turns a corner and is suddenly swept into the air, nothing supporting him but a steady stream of wind underneath and around him. He screams as he's picked up, and he faintly hears a whispering voice frantically asking question in his ears, but the demons come rushing into the room and find him very frantically trying to right himself in the air.

"My god, my god, what is this, my god, my god!" His eyes widen in fear as the man of sand floats up and nears him, pictures flashing over his head.

The giant calls us from below. "Jack, what is going on?"

He tries to push himself through the air, but he can't figure it out. "Lord help me! Who art thou? What have thou done?"


End file.
